26 Words
by Frankie random
Summary: Anne Boleyn/Charles Brandon pairing.a series of short pieces based on one word for every letter of the alphabet, they all link together. please review.
1. A to I

Okay well I don't have time to write a fanfic because of final exams so I have instead done a series of short pieces based on one word for every letter of the alphabet, they all link together, I will update as often as I can. Please review and tell me what you think. I own nothing.

Anger

She was known for her quick tongue and sharp wit, but Charles preferred her in anger, when her calculated, strong, controlled façade dropped and the fiery, passionate, frightened woman beneath was on full display. Anne's yells and cries were then unfiltered, everything she felt and thought leaked out for him to examine at will, it was the only time she was real anymore, it was the only time he knew where he stood with her, as her almost cold queen exterior left him wondering. Anne would unleash her fury on him, let out her fear because he was the only outlet for it.

Blush

Charles Brandon loved to make women blush, the telling sign of their attraction to him. He could make even the most in control women weak at the knees with a perfectly executed smirk, from pretty shades of pink to embarrassing reds he rejoiced in being the cause of them. But no one wore a blush better than Anne Boleyn, a beautiful rouge would tint her cheeks and unlike many maidens her eyes did not lower or flutter in discomfort but they looked straight on into his with amusement and unashamed longing.

Cruelty

Anne Boleyn had seen much cruelty in her life, her family exceled at causing it. But the biggest unjustness continued to be the Boleyn's fatal ambition, their suffocating need for more money, land and position, the Howards were just as bad if not slightly worse they had an all-consuming desire for more, so much so they were ready to sacrifice a daughter, a niece to a fickle king in the hopes of grandeur. But Anne loved them all the same how could she not they were her family, and in truth she had liked the king, he had an intensity that drew her in like a moth to a flame, but no matter how much she cared for henry at the back of her mind there always remained the thought of the man she couldn't have, the man who already owned her heart. It continued to be a contest source of cruelty in her life that Charles Brandon was denied to her.

Dreams

It was the dreams she had about him that weren't erotic, that when she woke left an emptiness in her soul and an aching in her heart. She couldn't just lie in his arms and sleep, she couldn't just laugh and talk openly to him anymore, Anne was watched by both her enemies and her family, her every move was judged and examined and anything that didn't seem right or didn't fit would be immediately reported to the king or even worse his advisers who would then twist her actions and words into the most incriminating natures to put her in ill favour with the king.

Edward

She couldn't stand to see or hear about Edward as that boy was a contest reminder of Charles's joining with that Catherine Willoughby bitch. The pride in which Charles looked on to the boy was a knife to Anne's heart, it was kick in the stomach proof that it was a proper marriage and that at least in Charles's eyes some good had come of it. The scrawny little self-righteous catholic was always whispering hateful thing about Anne in Charles's ear, and it was Anne's greatest fear that one day Charles would simple succumb to Catherine's reasoning. There were moments where he would look at Anne and dread would fill her, as in his eyes there was just that bit more of a hateful glint.

France

They had met in France during the first attempt at a peace treaty, in the palace of illusions. Anne had been with her sister Mary watching on at the wrestling match between King Francis and King Henry. Neither Henry nor Charles had immediately stood out for her instead she had found amusement in the way Mary had greedily glazed at the king of England. An ill-timed laugh had escaped her lips when Mary at the point of drooling got knocked into by the pair of aggressive kings, causing the spilling her wine over both of them, but being to tipsy to truly care about such a thing Anne merely laughed, but as she turned her head back towards the fight she saw a man staring right at her, he was obviously part of the English party as he stood with two other nobleman cheering on Henry with loud yells and claps. He gave her a 'charming' smirk and against her will Anne felt her face heat up, which only severed to make her blush more but instead of giving him the satisfaction of being bashful, she smirked right back at him. She wouldn't see him again until the dance of the graces.

Gamble

She was now in a dangerous gamble, of which her life hung in the balance. Her words and actions all determined the outcome, but in the end it all lie with a king notorious for being inconsistent and spiteful even to the point of viciousness. Charles was left to watch, there was little he could do, even less that he could say to turn the odds in her favour. Also Anne wasn't doing herself any favours either, her passionate feisty nature was working against her, she was in every way Henry's equal, and that was something Henry was increasing growing to resent. She was drinking more too, he rarely saw her in public without a goblet of some sort of wine, he tried to get her to listen to him to stop and think but that only seem to anger her.

Harsh

She heard the gossip around court, she had more enemies every day and now according to the rumours Charles Brandon was among them. A whore is what they whispered that he had called her. Anne hated him then, because the rumour was probably true, she knew he sympathized with Katherine of Aragon, but calling her a whore was harsh. She hated every fibre of his being and loved it all just as much. And he was just as bad, they both had some sick need to taste the forbidden, to have what is not theirs, to possess what is not allowed to them. "Why him?" she had questioned when the king had placed trust in Charles, "he hates me" she had felt sick saying the words as she knew them to be true, "well he loves me" she had wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

Idiot

Idiot she had called him with a laugh, it had been a carefree laugh, light with happiness. It was haunting her now, the reminder of when she thought the king would grow tired of her regardless of what she did, when she had thought that she would be with Charles eventually after the King tossed her aside. Now she knew she was the fool for being naive enough to think it would be that easy that simple, that the king would let Charles have her, that her family would let her walk away from such opportunities, she was the real idiot.


	2. J to O

10.) Jealously

It ate him alive to know that Henry possessed Anne, to see Henry kiss her, knowing what was inevitable going on in her chambers. Sometimes it seemed like she would play up the affection between herself and the king to get a reaction, for her glaze would travel to him to see if he was watching. He knew she hated his wife Catherine, which gave him a sick sort of smugness, but no matter how hard and cold she pretend to be toward him, there were moments where he could see through her façade and see the hurt in her eyes and it would break his heart. Charles hated Anne for making him resent Henry, but all the same he needed her, desired her with all his being, he loved her.

11.) King

Anne Boleyn cared for the king, she did truly want to give him the heir he so desired, she maybe even loved him, but she didn't love him the way she loved Charles. When he began to start having mistresses she was furious and heartbroken, consumed with the need to find out who he deemed better than her, who he was having replace her in bed. She did realise she was getting bit obsessed, but she couldn't quite understand why he need a mistress, she gave him all she could, she suffered the pain and anguish of miscarriages, she offered herself to him in every way she could. Anne gave Henry all except the one thing she no longer had in her possession to give him, her heart, because it already belonged to his best friend.

12.) Love

Anne Boleyn loved Henry she cared for him, was fond of him and desired him, if anything were to happen to him she would be devastated. Anne Boleyn loved Charles so much so that her love for him had become a part of who she was, he was the air she breathed and the reason she breathe it, if anything were to happen to him she would die. It was a lesson that Anne had learnt the hard way that love is not pretty, expensive gifts and well said poems but love is belonging to someone wholly and possessing them equally.

13.) Mother

She wondered sometimes if she were selfish, as her passion and confronting nature put both her and Elizabeth in danger. She wondered that if she just turned the other cheek to Henry and her enemies' attempts to get rises and reactions out of her, and if she just closed her eyes to Henry's affairs that things would be safer for Elizabeth. But it went against every bone in her body just to take it all lying down, she hated herself for not being able to back down for Elizabeth's sake, or even her own.

14.) Night

It was at night walking down the corridors of Hampton court after the dance of the graces, that Charles saw her. The beautiful woman he had seen in France and danced with at the dance of the graces. Her head was down as she was fiddling with a piece of her headdress so she didn't see him and bumped right into his shoulder. Her eyes widen and she quick muttered a sincere apology, not really even looking at him. "Lady Perseverance" he had said with a grin, she frown slightly and look up at him, a look of shock briefly crossed her face

"Your grace" she with an ever so slight curtsy, and he tinted his head in return, she then continued walked towards the queens chambers

"Is there any chance that if I asked your name you would give it to me?"

She turned back to him with a small smile, and for a moment she really looked as though she wouldn't, "Anne Boleyn".

15.) Open

He had been an open book to her in the years before she had been made queen, his face had been clear and easy for her to read, even in anger. They, now that she thought about it had never spoken openly with each other, but everything had been communicated through their actions and smiles, at one point they could have whole conversation through locked eyes across the king's banquets. But now she could never really tell how he was feeling and what he thought, she wondered if Catherine could, but even the idea of it made her furious, Anne loathed Catherine she really did, but what she hated more was that Charles did truly have feelings for his horrible little wife.


	3. P to T

16.) Passion

Her heart pounded in beat with her fast and shallow breaths, desire danced hungrily throughout her body, her skin burnt with heat along the path Charles kissed. Anne moaned with each hard and well-timed thrust, his hands leaving bruises on her hips. Charles bit down on her shoulder and a sharp gasp escaped Anne's lips, her body quivering in pleasure. With chocked groan, she arched her back, pressing her body against his, they were never close enough for her liking, and a growl rumbled deep in Charles's chest, causing sparks of further passion to flare in her belly. Anne hadn't slept with him since being married to Henry, after all she wasn't stupid but there were times were she heartily wished to give in to the overwhelming temptation.

17.) Queen

Anne Boleyn walked down the lush halls of Whitehall palace, with a tight smile and a strong controlled stride, many passing noblemen bowed and included their heads as she strode by. There were times where she loved the attention, she was their queen, the queen of England it was a dream come true and if told as a child that this was her fate she would have been thrilled. The power was great, the position superior but a couple of years into it and the dangers were more than apparent. King Francis's words of warning echoes in her head. The looks of awe from onetime allies had become looks of malice from powerful enemies. She was on a one way road to disaster, she could feel it in the air, fate and destiny's sick and mocking laugh of doom, all eyes were on her they all knew what was to become of her and yet they watch all the same, the way one watches a jousting accident completely horrified and yet compelled to look on with fascination and terror and unable to do anything. Oh yes it's good to be queen.

18.) Rain

Their first kiss had been in the rain, in one of the king's meadow forests. It had been during an argument, for life of him Charles couldn't remember what the argument was about, both headstrong, stubborn and with far too pride to ever admit their wrong they fought on most things. Though the fight was probably about her sly and manipulative father, he remember they had fought a lot about that back then, though Charles couldn't say if that particular argument was about Thomas Boleyn. All he really remembered was the kiss, the feeling of Anne's soft, silky lips grazing his, their tongues like them always fight for dominance, the sound of teeth clashing. Anne had stopped the kiss angrily pushing him away furious at him using it to silence her, what he didn't know was how she would dream about it for days after. The kiss had been rough, powerful and doomed to end badly, Charles didn't like to think of the parallels.

19.) Scars

He had a scar on his left shoulder blade just a bit to the side, it was small about two inches in length, Charles had told her that he got it in a joust, he had fallen off his horse and a bit of wood got between the plates of his armour. "Dangerous sport" she had said with a cringe, placing a soft kiss on the blemish. He had later discovered a very small scar on her wrist, Anne explained that her brother George had accidently shut a door on it when they were children. Her scar was small and unimportant and his small in comparison to what it could have been, she had heard of truly horrific jousting scars that run the length of a man's torso. But now they both had scars that ran the length of their bodies, that crippled them, those scars may not be on the outside but they were no less painful when they were created, if anything those scars hurt more. Anne and Charles still carried them where ever they went. Those scars would last long they were scars of the soul.

20.) Thunder

Anne Boleyn loved storms, the sound of thunder rumbling through sky and rain pattering on the roof was sweet music to her ears, and now was no different. In the tower sat by the window she listened to the storm raging outside, her ladies maids were fast asleep none disturbed by weather. Oh how she longed to feel the cool air on her face, the tower rooms she resigned in were cool but it was a stale coldness that slowly suffocates you to death, so unlike the fresh clear air outside. All her fear and dread were building up making it impossible for her to think clearly as she felt as though she couldn't breathe, she was constantly having her ladies loosen her corset as it always felt too tight. She was terrified for Elizabeth, what would become of her daughter if she was no longer around to protect her, she was terrified for Charles, terrified that the king would find out about her love for his best friend and act out in spitefulness. But despite all of this a small selfish part of her longed for death, for it to end her suffering, she longed for peace and for finality, as all this waiting, wondering and worrying was hell. But what she wanted most was to see Elizabeth and Charles one last time, because she knew the king had made the choice to be rid of her. She could only hope his love for Elizabeth and Charles would hold for longer than his love for her did.


	4. U to W

I'm so sorry, I haven't had a chance to update as I had four final exams this week so revision pretty much took up most of my time (I had two maths exams on the same day it pretty much killed me), I know it's very short but the last chapter will be up very soon so without further ado here is the latest chapter I hope you enjoy it and please review. I own nothing.

21.) Unbidden

His feelings for her were unwelcome and unwanted, the time in which he had rejoiced in their love was over, now it was just painful, he prayed to god to diminish it to make him love Catherine even a third as much as he loved Anne, there was nothing easy about being truly in love. There was a moment however when he came to escort her to the tower where she instead of getting angry or crying, gave him a small sad smile, and he almost crippled under the weight of it. It was in that minute, that second that he realized he would never not be in love with her, no amount of time or space would ever change that.

22.) Vain

Henry was by nature a very vain and proud man, he was the king, the king of England by divine right, and as such he needed a wife with a submissive and obeying demeanour, and not a woman who challenged him and who was in every way his equal. The irony continued to be that the very thing that had made Henry fall in love with Anne was the very thing that he was growing to resent, with every breath it rubbed against him in the most irritating way, infuriating him to no end. Hate is a vicious emotion it claws at one's soul, and feasts, hate eats you alive ever growing ever punishing. As their marriage had turned sour Cromwell and the rest of her enemies leaped at the opportunity, and the king's malice grew.

23.) Wrong

Tears gentle rolled down her face, her eyes remained fixed on his "why?" the word sounded chocked, and for a moment Anne wondered if he had even understood it.

"Because that's the way it's meant to be, and you know it" he replied, the words themselves were rather harsh and had it not been for his soothing tone she would have flinched. "You were always meant to be a queen, his queen" Charles gave a short rather forced laugh "It was written in the stars, I wasn't planned, I was never meant to happen, we were never meant to fall in love"

A broken sob escaped her lips and Charles tenderly wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs and then kissed her forehead softly working kisses down the side of her face along her cheek to her quivering lips, one perfect barely there kiss was shared and by the time Anne open her eyes Charles was walking out of the door. That week she married Henry, she had made her bed now it was time to lie in it.


	5. X to Z

Thank you for the lovely reviews, I really enjoy reading them and I'm glad you all enjoyed this fic. As far as the arrow through the heart thing it's not really what it means, but it is generally a sigh of love, but I sort of added the bleeding heart detail to make it work for me. I am aware that bleeding heart means something different. ("Amor et melle et felle est fecundissmismus"- is Latin for "love is rich with both honey and venom").

24.) Xmas

It was small, the smallest present he had been given, it was wrapped up in purple velvet and tied with cheap brown string, it was a very odd combination. Neither Catherine nor any of their servants knew who the gift was from, according to the housekeeper it had arrived the day before and had been slipped into the hand of the doorman by a nameless face who didn't stick around long thereafter. Catherine had gazed at it with uncertain suspicion as he pulled lose the string and open up the velvet, inside was a soft cotton handkerchief and stitched neatly in the corner was a small bleeding heart with an arrow through it, he recognized the symbol the arrow through the heart represented love, but the bleeding heart represented anguish, anguish filled love he knew immediately who the gift was from. Charles covered the symbol with his thumb as Catherine got to her feet to have a look at the odd gift. She frowned at it before muttering "Edward would you help me put away the presents" Edward stood obediently, carrying his new sword in his bony hands. Once they were out of the room Charles opened up the handkerchief to find a creased piece of parchment, with the words "amor et melle et felle est fecundissmismus**". **

25.) Year

It was one year to the day since he had stood in the crowd and watched her die. He remembered the day so very clearly, the entire day was scratched into his mind, every detail stretched perfectly in his memory so that it felt like only yesterday. It hadn't felt real watching Anne stand up there, knowing it was her last few moments, she had not cried but instead looked and spoke with fierce strength demanding the respect of the scornful crowd and softly hinting at her innocence. Charles had willed her to look to him, but through the whole speech she did not even glance his way, it wasn't until she was on her knees waiting for the swing of the sword that would end her life did she look at him, sad, strong and completely loving her eyes told all, and he fell in love with her all over again. So locked in her gaze he hardly noticed that the whole crowd was kneeling to her, following suit he knelt and then unable to stop himself he gave her a smirk so much like the one he had given her so very long ago when their eyes had first locked in France and a smile graced her features, a smile full of love, it was the last act she ever committed. Surreal was the only word to describe that day and all those that followed, it never seem to be able to sink in that she was gone that he would never hear her laugh or touch her or kiss her again, Charles from that day on was in a constant state of numbness always waiting for the moment he would wake up and she would still be alive still be queen, but it never came. So he live with an emptiness with a "smile that never touches your eyes" that was what Henry had once remarked years later. Anne Boleyn was gone he knew it and many years later had fallen in love with another, Brigitte her name was, but he never forgot Anne, she was written upon his soul, she was a permanent and constant scar on his heart, he would love her with every fibre of his being until his last dying breath.

26.) Zest

Anne laughed loudly, holding her slides as though they were splitting, tears of happiness rolled down her red cheeks. Charles laughed along with her his stomach hurting from the sheer amount of laughter he had partaken in that night, the comment itself hadn't been all that funny but it was one of those nights where after laughing so much and for so long that everything become hysterical, and of course the several cups of wine that they both had consume help with the hilarities. They were sat by the fire in her room at Hever castle, it was late at night and they were alone except for the servants. Anne shook her head as if to rid the humour but was unsuccessful as a large grin still remained upon her face, "Charles" she whispered amusement still ringing within her voice "do…do you …" she stammered unable to think how to word the question right, she didn't want him running for the hills and she was a Boleyn after all, pride was the family illness.

"What?" Charles asked softly, brushing her tears away the smile resting on his lips melted her heart

"How do you…well" Anne humph in annoyance at herself, and decide to just grab the bull by the horns, she after all was not one of those silly blubbing milk maids "do you love me?" she had it said firmly with a conviction in her voice as though she were giving the answer rather than the question. A large smirk spread across his face and she wanted to whack him in the head. Charles stopped her from doing just that by pressing a light kiss to her jaw, Anne glared with annoyance down at him but he continued to trail soft knee-weakening kisses along her jaw and down her neck

"Do you love _me_?" was his reply, she did whack him then, causing him to laugh heartily, Charles grabbed both her wrists as she lunged for him,

"I bloody asked you first" Anne huffed, and Charles kissed her again but this time whispered against her lips

"_Yes_"

"I love you too" she mumbled between their joint lips.

Please review x


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